


Spa Day

by RainyDayDecaf



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Humor, M/M, Massage, Reconnaissance, Reference to Fornication, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyDayDecaf/pseuds/RainyDayDecaf
Summary: Uriel leaned around the corner to keep her quarry in sight. “He’s looking at the mouthwash now.”“Ah ha!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Mouthwash!  I know what that is, it’s created with mint. Surely the herb has some sort of ritualistic purpose!”Uriel scoffed. “Or he’s planning a romantic night with his boyfriend. He also placed a reservation at the restaurant earlier and bought flowers to be delivered. The only ritual going on here is the kind that requires a bed.”Or, Heaven’s agents spy on Aziraphale after the Apocalypse and still don’t quite know what to make of him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 435





	Spa Day

“What’s he doing now?”

“Looking at the human merchandise,” Uriel said, mobile in hand, keeping a close eye on Aziraphale through the gaps in the shelves. He hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. Humming to himself, he added a few items to his shopping basket and wandered into the next aisle.

She paused by the shelf he had been perusing and frowned. “He’s selecting... bath bombs.”

“Bath _bomb?_ ” Gabriel said slowly. “What is that, some sort of sulfurous compound used in demonic rituals?”

“I believe it’s a human invention meant for skin care?” Uriel said, feigning ignorance. She was _not_ about to fess up her habit of visiting Earthly spas and that she knew the exact name of the organic brand Aziraphale had chosen. “Something to that effect.”

“Why would they give it such a dire name, then?” Gabriel wondered out loud. “What else did you say he was looking at?”

“Scented oils and candles. And also...”  
  
One of the human workers walked by, and Uriel hastily pretended to be browsing. She had switched out her usual gray suit for a sundress, complete with a large hat and sunglasses, the better to pass as a mortal in this seaside town at the height of summer. It didn’t seem to be working though. Random humans kept looking at her oddly while completely ignoring Aziraphale. Or worse, greeting him with cheerful familiarity. At one point he stopped to chat with a couple and leaned closer to coo at their baby. Uriel didn’t even try to repress a disapproving sneer. Angels were powerful, formidable beings to be feared and awed, and they did not _coo_ at babies.

Aziraphale moved on. Uriel leaned around the corner to keep her quarry in sight. “He’s looking at the mouthwash now.”

“Ah ha!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Mouthwash! I know what that is, it’s created with mint. Surely the herb has some sort of ritualistic purpose!”

Uriel scoffed. “Or he’s planning a romantic night with his _boyfriend_. He also placed a reservation at the restaurant earlier and bought flowers to be delivered. The only _ritual_ going on here is the kind that requires a bed.”

“Wait, you think the two of them...” Gabriel lowered his voice and eked out the next word like he was trying not to choke on it. “... _copulate?_ ”

_I mean, obviously_ , Uriel thought. Aziraphale’s smug little smile when confronted on A-day had been proof enough for her.

“Wait, is _that_ how they survived the executions, do you think?” Gabriel asked. “Could it be that simple? Maybe they have to fornicate on a regular basis to build up some kind of immunity... Uriel, I need you to confirm this! Try to catch them in the act tonight!”

Uriel took her eyes off Aziraphale just briefly to roll them at the ceiling. “Gabriel, if you think for one minute I’m going into that cottage to get an eyeful of _that_ , you can find someone else to do your reconnaissance.”

“Nonsense, you’re doing great! Just have a little more faith. We can’t be caught unprepared. Those two went to all the trouble of sabotaging Armageddon, and I doubt it was so they could spend all of eternity eating and fornicating like turtles.”

“Rabbits.”

“What?”

Uriel sighed. “Nothing... and are you really sure about that? From what I’ve seen, they’ve gone far past _native_ and become human in all but name. They don’t _do_ anything except putter around that cottage and go for long drives all up and down the country.”

“Mark my words, they’re planning something,” Gabriel insisted. “They’re gearing up for some kind of big move against Heaven and Hell, I know it. We’ll find out their plans, take the evidence to the higher-ups, and then...”

“And then what? What will we do about an angel and a demon who can’t be killed with the usual means?”

“Well, I haven’t gotten _that_ far yet. It’s a work in progress.”

Uriel made a face, but refrained from saying what was on her mind. In her humble opinion, there was absolutely no point to this assignment. Aziraphale was the last person in the universe who would be planning some sort of hostile takeover of Heaven. He had always been the least ambitious among them. Late reports, frivolous miracles, too much mercy and not enough smiting, engaging in sins of the flesh... the only reason he hadn’t been shuffled off to a desk job in some dusty corner of Heaven had been his uncanny ability to keep the Serpent of Eden somewhat tamed. In that alone, he had made himself indispensable. Countless evil plots thwarted, millions of souls saved, and _always_ he had humbly turned down those promotions, claiming it was his solemn duty to stay where he was and keep Crowley in line.

Of course, now they all knew _why_. It made perfect sense in hindsight.

“Listen, I know this is a daunting assignment,” Gabriel said in a manner that was probably meant to be encouraging, but just came across as pompous. "We all deeply appreciate your willingness to take one for the team. Just do everything in your power to uncover their plot, and you can look forward to a glowing recommendation on your next performance review!”

“Right,” Uriel said curtly. “I’ll keep you informed—”

She turned around and nearly bumped straight into Aziraphale. Who didn’t look at all surprised to see her. Uriel froze, pinned in place by his sweet smile. And by the small green candle cupped in his hand.

A candle that was _lit_.

“Uriel!” Aziraphale said in much the same tone he had used on the couple earlier. “What a surprise! What brings you here?”

She heard Gabriel say _oh_ _shit_ and immediately hang up. Uriel put her mobile away and took a moment to gather herself. “Nothing to concern _you_. I’m here on official business. Heavenly business. I had no idea you were in the area.”

“Is that so?”

Uriel narrowed her eyes. “It is. Do you question me? Angels don’t lie.”

“Of course not.”

Aziraphale stepped closer. There was nothing threatening about the motion, nothing that would suggest an attack was forthcoming, but Uriel flinched anyway, eyes riveted on the innocuous little flame. “What is that?” she demanded.

“Oh, this?” Aziraphale pondered the candle. “I believe the scent is meant to be apple blossom, though it seems a bit sharp to me. I wasn’t sure if Crowley would care for it. Perhaps the cinnamon spice is more up his alley? Here, hold this for me.”

Uriel took the candle by instinct and only then realized her mistake. She held it away from her, looking around desperately for a place to set it down, but the shelves were all crowded with merchandise, and hellfire was notoriously quick to spread as soon as it had something to burn. If this _was_ hellfire. She couldn’t tell. Uriel could no more sense its nature than a demon could tell when water was blessed. The mere _thought_ that she might be holding the means of her own destruction made her shudder.

“Or maybe the jasmine?” Aziraphale mused. He had pulled another candle out of the basket and lit it while she was wasn’t looking. Uriel watched in horror as he leaned his face close to the burning wick and inhaled the scent deeply. She backed up into a shelf, arrested by the memory of a column of flames, roaring, blinding, of a great big gout lunging in her direction before Gabriel grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Aziraphale’s cocksure grin as he watched them all cower, the hellfire engulfing him and yet leaving him untouched...

“Mm, that smells _divine_. It’s so hard to decide! Maybe I should call Crowley and ask what he prefers? Uriel, might you just hold this for me while I...?”

“Get that away from me!” Uriel snapped.

Aziraphale blinked, looking back and forth from her to the candles. His wide eyes and dramatic gasp might have seemed sincere at one time, but Uriel knew better than to be fooled by it now. “Oh! I’m so _terribly_ sorry. I’ve become so accustomed to my new state of being, I’d forgotten this sort of fire doesn’t agree with you.”

“Just,” Uriel said, hands shaking as she held out the candle and prayed. “Just _take it back_. Please. I’ll leave at once, I’ll tell Gabriel this assignment is pointless.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Aziraphale said coldly. He reached out and, right before her eyes, pinched the wick with his fingertips to put out the flame. She let him take the candle back, shrinking away and doing her best to make it look like a tactical retreat.

“Leaving so soon?” Aziraphale said, with a beaming smile that should not have been as terrifying as it was. "Ah, but of course, you have Heavenly business to attend. Until we meet again, yes? Toodle pip!”

Uriel whipped around and left the shop so quickly that the wind of her passing nearly knocked over a display. As soon as she was outside, she unfurled her wings and took to the skies and didn’t stop until she had reached Heaven, where she made a beeline for Angelic Resources and filled out the paperwork for an extended leave.

She was going to need a _very_ long spa day after this.

* * *

Crowley laughed so hard, he nearly fell off the massage table.

"And she was on _speakerphone_ , if you can believe it," Aziraphale said, laughing giddily. "She had one of those fancy earpieces in, the ones with blue teeth, but it wasn't properly working. Everyone in that shop could hear them talking about mouthwash and fornication!"

Crowley wheezed and smacked his hand on the table. "And you really made her think the candle was lit with hellfire?"

"I'm sure _I_ never said any such thing.” Aziraphale spread a dollop of oil on his palm and warmed it, taking a moment to admire the broad expanse of Crowley’s back and shoulders laid out before him. “All I did was ask her to hold it. She seemed very eager to give it back."

"That's _amazing_ ," Crowley mumbled. He groaned into the pillow when Aziraphale dug his fingers deep into the muscles of his back, strong hands slowly working out the kinks. "Y're 'mazing," he slurred.

"Thank you, my dear. _And_ thank you for indulging me. These corporations are the only ones we have, we must learn to properly care for them. Keep them in tip-top shape."

Crowley said something else, but it came out as a string of nonsensical syllables. Judging by how limp he was and the dreamy smile on his face, he had no intention of moving from beneath Aziraphale's hands for the next hour or two. Aziraphale leaned down to kiss the back of his head and returned his focus to the massage, with only the occasional pause to chuckle at the memory of Uriel dashing from the shop like she had suddenly remembered leaving the kettle on.


End file.
